


Abandon

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Age Difference, Dirty Talk, Episode: s02e05 The Farm, F/F, Femslash, Mommy Issues, Orders, Porn, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is not Kara's new and improved mommy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abandon

If she talked about it to the shrinks, it would be all about her maternal abandonment issues. After all, mothers are not supposed to be dangerous and cruel. Mothers are supposed to be unconditional love and comforting open arms, and making you feel wanted.

Laura already knows all about Kara's mom. Laura knows everything about everyone, and not long after Kara returned from Caprica, Laura asked about the broken fingers. Pointedly, so there was nothing Kara could do but confess. And confess about her mother's religious fervor, her father's abandonment, and late night gropes that didn't get talked about, and everything ever.

When Kara has finished confessing, she finds out she's crying, and Laura was looking at her, troubled and uneasy.

"And you haven't told anyone about this? A friend, someone you could trust?" asks Laura, petting Kara's hair kindly but awkwardly, as if this isn't something she's good at.

"My best friends are the Adamas," Kara says, snuggling into Laura's shoulder like it was a pillow and letting her hands fall into her lap. "They wouldn't get it. They'd want to kill my parents. And that's not what I want."

"I'm sorry," Laura says. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how I'm going to help you, but I do want to help you."

Kara is pretty sure that Laura doesn't mean that Kara should beg and plead for Laura to frak her silly, but that's where it leads. Kara, her mouth pressed up against Laura's, smelling the remnants of expensive perfume, tasting lipstick, and sucking the air out of Laura's mouth.

Underneath the class and _savoir faire_ Laura wears like armor, Kara can feel something seeping through the skin in their kiss, something hungry and devouring and needing. Something that is drawing strength from Kara's kisses, dilating Laura's pupils until Kara can't tell what color Laura's eyes were anymore, making her lips swollen and hard on Kara's.

"I don't want to be babied," Kara murmurs, sucking on a warm spot under Laura's earlobe. "If I told anyone else, they'd make me a victim."

"You're not a victim," Laura says in a delightful growl of a voice, palming Kara's shoulder. "You fight too hard to be a victim."

"But I don't want to be a fighter, either," Kara says plaintively. "I don't even know why I'm fighting all the time."

"Then don't fight," Laura says, pushing Kara's hair out of her face. "Be whoever you are, Kara Thrace."

This from a woman who wields her position like a shield, whose first name is never used. The President. Madam President. Roslin. President Roslin. Never just plain Laura, despite the part where for whatever else the President is, Laura Roslin is a beautiful woman who's too much hidden inside herself.

"I want to know who you are," Kara says suddenly, putting her hands on the buttons of Laura's jacket. It's a nice jacket, tailored to remind everyone that President Roslin is a woman, albeit a no-nonsense leadership type.

"That's something you don't get to know," Laura says raggedly, helping Kara undo the buttons. "It won't help you. It's never helped me."

Kara's hand starts roaming over the smooth blouse underneath the discarded jacket. She had never seen blouses like this until she was in high school. They're too rich for poor Caprican brats, easy to snag on a hangnail. Filmy and feminine and symbolic. Everything about Laura's image is symbolic and neat and false as hell.

The overgrown adolescent in Kara wants to tear it all down, all that calm and beauty and **see** what drives Laura to unnatural perfect. Also, it just looks like it would tear so easy...

"Then let me frak you," Kara offers. "I really, **really** \--" this punctuated with a slow, obscene stripe licked down Laura's jawline-- "Insist. Madam President."

Laura's eyes are glittering with that hungry thing again, the thing that makes Kara hot and shivery at the same time. Kara's seen death in the eyes before -- it is part of the job description -- but never in the eyes of a living woman.

Her tongue wets her lower lip, the eyes daring Kara to kiss her even while they search her for some quality Kara was sure she's missing.

"Take your shirt off," Laura orders, in the voice of a woman who is used to being obeyed. "Slowly."

Kara, not breaking eye contact, puts her hands on the hem of her tank top and pulls it over her head very slowly, feeling Laura's assessing eyes travel over each inch of exposed skin. The thought of it has Kara wet. Just the looking, not even the thought of touch.

But Laura does touch. Draws one damp fingertip from Kara's navel up to her breastbone. Under her bra, Kara's nipples immediately tighten.

"Why do you always obey me, Lieutenant Thrace?" Laura asks in a curious, conversational voice as she pulls back but does not lean back, instead sitting with perfect posture to continue her interview and extended visual grope. "Do you trust me that much?"

"I guess I like confidence," Kara says, trying to sound casual and flip, but the way Laura is regarding her, her blouse half-unbuttoned with a glimpse of cleavage teasing Kara's desire, makes it hard to be her usual noisy self. "And you promised me things. The important things."

"But not things you necessarily want for yourself," Laura says, unbuttoning another three buttons on her blouse. Her hair's pulled to one side, leaving a whole curve of neck that Kara desperately wants to caress and nibble. "Eventually, unthinking obedience could get you in a lot of trouble."

"I'm already trouble," Kara says. "I'm a walking, talking bad girl who won't grow up. Listening to you won't change that. You know what the hell you're doing, at least."

Laura laughs, leaning forward and looking deep into Kara's eyes. "I don't need your blind faith, Lieutenant," she growls. "I need you to know who you are and what you want."

"What I want, right now, is to frak your brains out, because you've got me so turned on I can't see straight," Kara says boldly, putting her hand on Laura's knee. "How's that?"

"Good enough to let you do it," Laura replies, casting her blouse aside. And for a moment, Kara thinks it isn't even really that. That Laura wants someone not to be afraid of her, the way everyone -- even the old man, and Lee -- is.

Kara smirks and pounces, pulling herself into Laura's lap and attacking that exposed throat like a frakking vampire while Laura's hands pull at the clasps on Kara's bra, her fingernails skating across Kara's back as the want starts pulsing between Kara's legs.

"I gotta frak you soon," Kara says into Laura's warm ear. "Everything you're doing is making me hotter."

"And I haven't done anything yet," Laura replies with gentle amusement, her body moving beneath Kara's to a slower rhythm.

Then she puts her hand on the seam of Kara's pants and **rubs** , rubs while Kara, suddenly rendered speechless except for proto-syllables and other moans, feels her clit start to throb.

"Doing plenty," Kara says breathlessly. "Gods, Laura. I'm supposed to be frakking you."

"I know," Laura says with a mysterious smile, kissing Kara on the collarbone. "But I think you want me to frak you, Lieutenant Thrace."

"Frak yes," Kara replies, grinding herself against Laura's hand, her own hand on Laura's shoulder, steadying herself. "Please, yes."

Laura draws her other thumb over Kara's lips, pausing to let Kara suck on the knuckle, while Kara's hips roll and press.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Need you closer," Kara whines. "Not just through the pants. I want you to touch me."

"You want me to frak you," Laura corrects schoolmarmishly. "Let's not mince words here."

"Yes," Kara moans as the rubbing got harder. "Frak me, Laura. I need to feel you inside of me."

And it's amazing, how Kara's own words can make her wetter, but they do, and Laura pulls her hand from Kara's mouth and undoes the button and zipper, lets Kara lift herself up enough to pull down both pants and underwear.

Leaving herself hot and wet and willing and whimpering for more. Kara leans in and licks Laura's throat, and Laura hisses, her hand sliding back to Kara's wet pussy, and what has Kara crazy is that except for the undone buttons, Laura looks like she could go back to whatever big presidential thing she's doing.

Should piss Kara off, but it makes her want it more.

"Say it again, Kara," Laura says in a voice that is deceptively sweet and iron-hard. "I want to hear you say it."

"Frak me," Kara says, and there, there's one finger stroking closer as one of Kara's arms wraps around Laura's neck, and she's all spread out over Laura's nice, expensive skirt, rocking back and forth. "I want you to frak me."

Laura's other hand is smoothing over Kara's still-clothed breast, and Kara gasps at the ache of it, the way Laura is losing a little control, getting into it more than she's supposed to.

"Good girl," Laura says, teasing with her fingers even though Kara's so wet that she can barely feel just one finger. Pushes one inside, and then two.

Kara's gone then, lifting her hips and trying to give Laura more access, trying to balance and not fall off, and then she feels a third finger, Kara moans and leans forward, kissing Laura hard, even though Laura's eyes are so dilated they look like they're all pupil.

Sucks her tongue deep into her mouth, feeling those fingers twist and scissor and stroke, sending sweet, hot tension up Kara's spine as Kara finally has to breathe, has to break away from Laura's devouring mouth, even as Laura's fingers frak her harder.

The sweat is tricking down her back, and her thighs are straining, because they have the worst angle for this, and Kara's thinking about later, because this won't be all, not if Kara's got anything to say about it, and Kara does.

"You like it, don't you?" Laura asks, and Kara can see all of her teeth, and this time the crazy is pretty close to the surface.

"Oh, yeah," Kara says. "I...yeah."

Laura's thumb rubs against Kara's clit, and all new spangles of hot erase Kara's brain again, so that she's trying to get more, get those fingers in her deeper, get fraked harder, because she can feel it. She's gonna come.

"I know you're close," Laura whispers into Kara's ear. "That you're going to come hard, too. And then I'm going to keep frakking you, Kara. Do you want me to do that?"

"Yes," Kara whimpers, hips jerking. "God, you're good."

"Say it, sweetheart," Laura says. "Be a good girl for me, and say it. Tell me you're going to come."

"I...yeah," Kara gasps, because she's not sure she can. "Gonna...gonna..."

"Please, Kara," Laura says harshly.

"Oh, god, I'm...oh god, I'm gonna come," Kara squeaks. "Oh, god. Ohh..."

Laura does something, and Kara comes, shaking and convulsing and all over Laura's hand. Hard, and Laura wasn't lying when she said she was going to keep frakking her. Laura keeping her fingers pumping, and Kara can feel herself amped right back up to that place where one right move, and she'll come again and again.

"Oh, just like that," Laura suddenly says, drawing the meat of her thumb roughly against Kara's clit. "Just like that, oh God..."

And somewhere deep in Kara's orgasm-dead brain, it occurs to her that Laura is just as wet and turned on as Kara, and that really, there's never going to be a better opportunity to frak her. Or even better, have Laura frak her mouth, and the idea makes Kara's body almost rigid with the thought.

Laura, skirt shoved up to her hips, absolutely out of control.

Kara breathes out raggedly as the last spasm shakes through her and Laura pulls her fingers out of Kara, and yes, she is just as sticky and sweaty as Kara right now, and when Kara grabs Laura's wrist and proceeds to suck each and every last one of her fingers, Laura doesn't resist.

"You...don't want to stop," Laura says, eyes big. Kara shakes her head mutely, pulls them to their feet. It'll be easier on them both if Laura's leaning on something.

It'd be even easier if there was a decent bed around here, but Kara knows how to improvise. Especially with Laura looking drunk on lust and leaning against Kara.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Bathroom," Kara says laconically, putting her hand in Laura's. This feels good, all of it. Even though she's starting to wonder who Laura wants so badly. Probably not Kara; Laura likes Kara just fine, and more than ever now, but it's not true love or anything. "You like it when people go on their knees for you, don't you?"

Laura's eyes, which had almost gotten back to normal, widen again. "I..." she says.

"It's okay. I won't tell," Kara says, licking her lips and dropping to her knees, putting her hands on the hem of Laura's already half-trashed skirt. "Whoever he is, the guy who won't let you frak him? He's a moron."

"Thank you, Kara," Laura says wearily. "Are you certain it's a he?"

Kara snorts, pushes the skirt up until Laura gasps. "Yes, I am," she says. "I know that much."

Laura's hand finds its way under Kara's chin, tilting her head up. She can have a lot of sincerity in her eyes, despite being a consummate liar.

"Right now, I am here. With you," she said.

Laura has too many secrets for Kara to comprehend. Kara wants things to be simpler. Laura is beautiful and feverish and wants to be frakked silly, and when Kara grips and spreads her, she whimpers. When Kara runs a finger across swollen flesh, Laura groans, her hips shifting down, tilting out.

That's simple enough. Right now, she is here, and when Kara's tongue flicks against her skin, Laura whimpers. Normally. Like a woman who likes getting frakked in a bathroom by someone who knows how to get her off.

Kara's pretty sure that Laura isn't her new and improved mommy now. Though looking at Laura's nude breasts, pushed out as Laura clings to the side of the sink with her eyes closed and the tip of her tongue flickering in and out, Kara does feel the desire to lick and suck like an infant.

And if Kara knows anything, it's how to get someone off. Quickly, efficiently, almost cleanly. Mouth, tongue, nose, and fingers in all the right places, wet, salty places that shudder and heat up when you touch them properly, waiting for that explosion.

So when Laura says, "Slower," it makes Kara's heart beat faster. "This isn't a race, Kara."

Laura is not her new and improved mommy. Not a chance. Kara licks slower, taking her time, marveling at how good it can be to be in a moment.

When she comes, Laura almost knocks Kara out, not just because her knees buckle, but because the cry of passion is so absolutely real. Even if her mystery man is flashing behind her closed eyes, it's real, and Kara is the one who's given her this.

Laura strokes Kara's hair, and the look in her eyes is so confused. Almost happy, but mostly it's like she doesn't know what to say to Kara at all.

"You don't have to, you know, say anything," Kara says. "I'm pretty happy as is."

"I don't understand," Laura says softly, looking at her with discomfort flickering in her eyes. "You shouldn't have let me do that to you, Kara."

"I. Liked. It," Kara said stridently. "I wanted it. And you liked it, too, if the noise was any indicator."

"Of course I liked it," Laura said, leaning against the wall with a stricken expression on her face. "But all those orders. The way I was talking to you. That was..."

"So you want to be on top," Kara teases, ruffling her own hair. "It's not the end of the world."

Laura still looks uneasy, and Kara remembers how when Laura was first looking at her, all hot and turned on, there was that hungry thing, something that was close to destruction.

Maybe it is the end of the world. Maybe Laura is afraid that if she gives in, even a little, she'll never stop being hungry until she consumes everything in sight.

"I shouldn't have done that," is what Laura says, and Kara winces. "I'm sorry."

Kara doesn't know what to say, even. Laura is practically crying, and Kara doesn't know how that happened, and so she pulls as close as she can to the other woman and kisses her on the forehead.

"Laura Roslin," she says quietly, kissing the tears that well up. "Don't be so afraid. Whatever it is, you'll win. You're stronger than everyone, you know that?"

Laura's laugh is bitter. "Strength is not always a virtue, Lieutenant Thrace," she says coldly. "I wish it were."

Kara knows she's being dismissed, but she can't leave with one last shot.

"You're really beautiful, you know, when you lose it," she says, feeling somehow like she can't just abandon Laura without some comfort. "If he loves you, if he's worth it, he'll help you even when you're crazy."

She hopes it helps. Even if it's just a little.


End file.
